The Imaginary Friend
by noendnogoodbyes
Summary: Elizabeth has an imaginary friend through her childhood years, to adult years. But what happens when things get more complicated than they initially were as she reaches her adult years and Red constantly puts her life in disarray? Inspired by the movie 'Drop Dead Fred', but not as crazy lol. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I am just doing this for fun while I wait for the Blacklist to come back on from its hiatus. This is a weird idea for a story, and I'm not sure if it's anything that should be continued. But if you do find it interesting, I'd love to know. This is inspired by the movie 'Drop Dead Fred', something I watched often as a kid and loved. Liz has an imaginary friend in Red, who constantly interferes in her life, even when she's an adult. Sorry if it's crazy and ridiculous. **

**Rating: **Will go up to a possible M soon. Alternate Universe.

**Pairings: **Eventual Red/Liz ; Lizzington.

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><p><strong><em>The Imaginary Friend<em>**

The first time she had seen him, Liz wasn't sure whether he was real or whether she was just imagining him, maybe out of mere wishful thinking.

She had been seven years old that first time.

She had just gotten home from school, still in her uniform, humming a tune to herself as she played in her room, bringing her dolls out and making them talk to each other. She barely had the chance to change one of her dolls into a new outfit, when she became distracted by a noise from outside. Whistling. Someone was whistling an unfamiliar tune in their backyard. She hadn't been sure where the noise was coming from exactly or why, but something had caught her attention nevertheless. She had gotten up to her feet, dusted her knees off, and approached the window, peering out.

And there, he stood, in their backyard, looking around where the old tire swing was suspended in the air from one of the lower, sturdy branches of the tree above him. Her father had put the old tire up for her so she could swing around whenever she pleased. The whistling resumed from the man, until he turned from looking and she caught a better glimpse of his face. He was a man she had never seen before, but she assumed he was one of her dad's old friends. He looked the type her father Sam hung with as friends.

He was dressed in an odd way; a look that seemed old-fashioned and outdated to her.

He, funnily enough, reminded her of someone who had stepped out of an old classic Hollywood movie, like the ones her and her father Sam would watch occasionally when he would let her stay up late past her bedtime on non-school nights. His clothes were wrinkle free and clean, an ocean blue three-piece suit and tie, and his shoes were shiny lace-ups. Above all that, he wore aviator sunglasses and a fedora atop his head. She was on the verge of alerting her father that they had a visitor outside, when he seemed to look straight through the window at her.

In an eerie way, he had pressed a forefinger against his lips at her. _Sssh, don't tell, Lizzie._

Immediately, along with it, and the way he smiled genuinely at her afterwards, she had come to a concrete understanding then. She had never laid her eyes on the man once before in her entire life, and yet she instantly knew his name was Red and that he had to be her private, little secret.

She constantly kept seeing him around places she was ever since.

Most of the time he wouldn't talk to her at first, and she wouldn't talk to him. But she would see him, sometimes magically appearing in the background or standing near the person she was at that time talking to. Peculiarly, no one else had seemed to notice the man in the fedora hat. No one else seemed to turn and look at him, but her. It was as if he were invisible and for her eyes alone to see only.

BLBLBL

Second time it happened, she was playing at the park.

Her father had agreed to take her afterschool and there, he sat, on the bench, reading the newspaper and occupying himself while she played on the swings or slid down the slides. She had looked over at her father Sam as he was immersed in the newspaper article he was reading and then, out of nowhere, the man with the fedora appeared. He walked over to where her father was reading, removed his hat from his head, and sat beside him.

She found it curious how her father didn't look up or smile at the man sitting beside him. It was as if her father didn't even notice someone was there, sitting near him. As if Red was non-existent and invisible to everyone else but her. The man crossed his right leg over his left and sat his hat down in the small gap of the seat between her father and him, and when he finally looked forward at Liz, he gave her a friendly, tight-lipped smile that showed clearly that he meant her no harm.

"What are you looking at, Butterball?" Her father's voice suddenly startled her and she looked over to find her father was looking confused, peering at Red above his newspaper, then back at her. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"You can't see him, Daddy?"

"See who, honey?" He looked around their surroundings nervously. It was apparent he couldn't. _But he was sitting right next to him!_ "See who?"

Her eyes flitted to the well-dressed man again. He chewed the side of his cheek, shook his head a fraction, and pressed a finger to his lips, like the last time she had seen him do in their yard. _Don't, Lizzie. This has to be just between you and me._

Liz quickly averted her eyes, reaching to grip a handful of sand in her hands. "Never mind, Daddy. I'm just kidding around."

BLBLBL

The first time she heard him speak to her, was again at the park with Sam.

She was running around, screaming at her father to catch her, just another game they played together. While Liz knew her father was no longer as fit as he used to be, she still loved pushing him. Then it happened. Sam, sweating profusely and skin turning an ashy white, suddenly stopped mid-jog, clutching at his chest while he panted loudly and wheezed. Then he collapsed to the ground at her feet. An ill feeling spread through Liz as she fell to her knees near him on the bark, trying to wake him up. Something had happened to her dad, and she wasn't sure what.

"Daddy? Is this another game of yours?"

She realized it was anything but a game when he wouldn't wake up, he just remained curled inwards on his side. She had no idea what to do. Was she meant to call the ambulance? But where was a phone so she could? What was even the emergency number to call for emergency help? Frightened and uncertain of what to do, Liz felt tears streaming down her face. What was she meant to do? What?

"You need to turn him on his back and make sure his airways are clear so that he can breathe."

The man with the fedora hat had appeared, his gaze travelling over her father's body. She was shocked to hear him talk, and what his voice sounded like. Somehow, she hadn't imagined it to sound like it did; Raspy, as if from disuse.

"You do it," she choked out. "You're the adult here, not me. Please, just help him!" She started sobbing again. "This is all my fault. If he hadn't been chasing me, it would never have happened to him!"

"Don't do that now, crying isn't going to help," Red commanded. His voice was low and stern. "Move into action. You need to do what I say and I'm telling you to turn him on his back, Lizzie. _Now_."

"But... I'm scared to touch him! What if I somehow make it worse? I just want Daddy to wake up again!"

"Trust me, I know what needs to be done," he said gently, and for some reason, she immediately believed him and put all her trust in this man. "I trained in the military, I have witnessed these things before, Lizzie. You have to turn him on his back."

"Okay." Reluctantly, she shoved Sam in the shoulder until he fell on his back. When she touched his face, his skin felt too warm, too sticky with sweat. "Now what? He's all... yucky."

"Is he breathing?"

She moved her ear near his nose and mouth, listening carefully. She could feel the slight whispers of his breath hit her as it tickled her earlobe. She sighed in relief. "He is! I can hear him."

"Good girl, Lizzie."

Her father's eyes fluttered and he regained consciousness. A soft, disorientated moan escaped his mouth.

"He's alive!" she exclaimed to the fedora wearing man shakily. "Thank you!"

Her father blinked up at her and seemed to have difficulty keeping his eyes open. His mouth slackened. "Butterball? What's happened? Who are you talking to?" He lifted his head slightly, looking around. He groaned loudly and squinted in the sunlight. "Why am I on the ground like this?"

"You..."

"Fainted," Red supplied helpfully.

"Fainted. You fainted, Daddy."

She felt her heart swell with not only relief for her father recovering, but also gratitude for Red's help. But when she opened her mouth, ready to thank him again, it occurred to her that he had already faded and disappeared. He must be a ghost, she wondered then. If he could appear and disappear so quickly, then he must be a ghost. Since he had helped her with her dad, she figured he was trustworthy enough.

Imaginary.

Her father couldn't see him. It seemed only she could.

So what did that make him?

BLBLBL

Liz woke up from a terrible dream, her hair clinging to her face like ropes, her heart pounding.

She sat up and turned, switching on her night lamp, folding her arms on top of her blanket. She looked around the room, searching fearfully for the monster that had haunted her in her dreams. To her relief, the monster was nowhere to be seen. She could hear her father having another one of his coughing fits in his room, as he often did during the night. He was sick, she had learned after a while. She didn't know how sick he was, or if it was anything serious, but it couldn't be normal, coughing all through the night like that.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked.

He was there, sitting perched silently in the old and rickety armchair near the window in her room. She hadn't seen him since that last time, when he appeared at the park, explaining to her what to do to make her father wake again from his fainting spell. His legs were crossed, fedora hat resting on his kneecap. His glasses were off too, and Liz realized she had never once seen him not wearing them before, not all those times he appeared to her.

Somehow, without them on, he looked older than she first thought he was. There were bags under his eyes. Tired light eyes that focused on her unblinkingly. Lines around his mouth as he pursed his lips together tightly. Short thinning grey hair, now that she saw him better in the harsh and unforgiving light of her lamp.

Why did she keep seeing him? Why only her? What made her so special, that he only visited her?

Liz often wondered if there was something wrong with her, inside her brain. Other kids in school didn't seem to go through what she did, in seeing someone often; Someone only they themselves could see. She had even tried to ask one of her trusted teachers about it, but they had just laughed and said she must have a very vivid imagination, whatever that meant.

She didn't even know him, yet she knew immediately he was Red. She immediately felt a sense of calm along with his presence, a sense of security. Whoever he was, he made her feel safe. That four-legged monster in her dream no longer seemed to scare her. It was just that; A silly, make-believe dream.

She sat back against her pillows, staring at him for a moment. She whispered hesitantly, "Daddy's sick."

He looked her up and down, his face turning into a strange mask of sympathy. "Yes."

"How sick?"

Liz saw the way he flipped the brim of his hat over and over around his knee with his fingers, faster than her mind and eyesight could process, as if it was a neat magic trick. The corner of his mouth twitched as he thought the answer to that over. He shrugged, "I'm not sure."

"Are you a ghost?" she asked him directly. "How come you're invisible to everyone else, but me? Daddy has noticed and heard me looking and talking to you, but he can't seem to hear or see you like I can. Why can't Daddy see you too?"

"Am I a ghost? I'm not certain of that. What I do know, is that I'm your friend." Red took a deep breath, holding her gaze. "And because I'm your friend, whenever you are in need, I'll be there." She could tell his words were genuine.

"How long will you be here for?"

"However long you want. For as long as you need and want me, I will always be here. When you are stressed, angry or afraid, I'm here."

Little did she know, she'd be seeing him for the rest of her life, even into adulthood.

**So, what did you think? :P Please let me know, I know it's probably silly to the point of being ridiculous. But this is just basically for fun anyway. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you all so much, I was so shocked by your supportive reviews and response. I do hope you enjoy this one, despite how crazy it is. :P**_

_**Chapter Two**_

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><p>Their bond grew incredibly strong, after such a short amount of time.<p>

No longer did Liz have to bother her father to make him play with her; Something she could tell pained and exhausted him, although he never told her directly that it did. She had Red now. He'd watch her as she pushed herself higher and higher on the old tire swing out in the yard. He'd tell her funny stories about men with moustaches and paunches- whatever a paunch was. Favorite of all, he'd let her wear his hat on occasion.

Despite looking the age her father did, Red never seemed to tire with her. He never complained of being too old to chase her around and, to her, he could be a big kid himself. There were times, however, that he showed just how adult he truly was compared to her seven-year old way, in his words of endless wisdom and his fascinating stories.

He seemed like a real friend to her. It was easy to forget he wasn't.

Red had his own thoughts and feelings, which confused her at times. If she had made him up herself, then why did he know so much? How come he seemed so real at times?

It only sunk in when her father would call her in for dinner, just her, and not Red as well. When her father would come up to her room to check on her and ask who she was talking to. She still didn't understand why no one else could see Red but her, but it didn't seem to matter to her. Not when he let her play for hours on end and he never got sick of watching her, or being around her.

It wasn't always all fun and games though, not when she asked him certain things.

"Am I your only friend?" she asked him one day, when they were sitting out in the yard after she had gotten home from school, engulfed by the overgrown strands of grass.

Her father hadn't gotten around to mowing the lawn since he couldn't be bothered, like most things lately. He just seemed to want to spend all day inside, resting in bed. He'd only emerge to take her to school in the mornings, and then he'd pick her up in the afternoon. He'd emerge at dinner time too, but most of the time he spent his days and nights shut off in his room.

Sometimes she would worry he was dead in his room, but then his coughs would float all the way out into the yard and she'd know for sure he wasn't.

Red took awhile to answer her. "No. There was another... girl. Her name was Jennifer."

She could tell he wasn't very happy talking about it. His voice went all funny and shaky.

"Why aren't you her friend anymore? What happened to her?"

Red took a deep breath. "She was... sick. Terribly sick."

Sickness was something Liz had learned to understand well. "Like Daddy?"

"More or less, yes. She... passed over into the next life. She no longer had any need for me to stick around."

Liz got that eyebrow-creased, scrunched up face look when she was trying her best to understand. "Passed over? What's that mean? Where'd she go?"

Red didn't feel all that comfortable telling a child the fragility and shortness of life and what inevitably happens when you reached a certain age. But she was looking at him, waiting eagerly. "Well, she died, Lizzie. She was a very sick girl, and she died."

Liz didn't really understand what dying meant, but she knew from experience that dying means a person goes away only to never return. Like her mother did when she gave birth to her. Her father told her what had happened to her mother and why she wasn't around, when she asked about it one day after seeing all the other kids at school being picked up by their mothers, and she had wondered where hers had went. Did her mother leave because she didn't love her? Or was it something that couldn't be helped? Sam had assured her it was not anything to do with her, but that her mother's time had just come.

"Where do people go when they die?"

"No one ever really knows. When you're dead, you can't exactly come back and explain where you go to someone, can you? That's why no one really knows what happens... after."

"Do you miss her? Your other friend?"

"Everyday." She heard him give out a long sigh. "You never truly forget. They may be gone, but they are never forgotten by those who knew them. I'm sure her parents would feel the same."

Liz didn't know what more to say about that, so she started plucking off strands of grass with her fingers so she had an excuse to come up with something. "But how old was she?"

"She was about your age, Lizzie. And she was happy, so very happy, despite her... her sickness. All she ever seemed to want to do was make mischief, even at the hospital when she was sick getting her treatments."

"What was she sick from?"

He wasn't sure whether it was right to tell her, but then he decided, _Why the hell not? _He couldn't exactly lie to her.

"She had a rare form of cancer, Lizzie. They said, at the end, it spread all through her and that curing her was not an option. I stuck by her, right until the end." She looked up at his face and found him staring off into the distance, his eyes slightly glazed and moist. "I held her hand and she told me how afraid she was."

"Is cancer bad?"

"Extremely. Cancer's the worst. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even my worst enemy. To be in that much suffering. Especially not a child, no child deserves to have to go through that much pain."

"What did she look like?"

He smiled fondly at the memory of her. "Well, she was shorter than you and frail. So very frail, Lizzie. And she didn't have any hair left, in the end. Tragic of all."

"Why not?" Liz blinked at him. "Where did all her hair go?"

"It was due to the treatments and all the various other chemicals in her body. It happened..." He raised his eyes to Liz's. "I'll always remember the way her hand felt, as I held it while she laid there, wasting away, on her hospital bed. Dry, like sand. And cold; She was so cold, Lizzie." His eyes grew wet as he smiled at her. "I held her hand for over an hour, and she was scared. Scared of dying. I told her she shouldn't be afraid to let go, that the..." Red's throat tightened and he had to glance away from her. "...Pain and suffering will end, if she let's go. So she did. She let go and now that's why I'm here."

"Were you sad?" Liz asked quietly.

"Yes, I was," Red admitted softly. "For a while. But now I don't need to be sad anymore. Now I _have you_."

"You have me?"

"Yes. And you and I, I can tell we are going to make a great team, Lizzie."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. It's this gut feeling I have, and gut feelings are usually right most of the time." He took off his hat and put it on the grass near her knees, letting her start chucking pieces of grass into the hole.

She was so much different from how Jennifer was; Her complexion, for one thing. Lizzie was vibrant and glowing; her hair a dark brown and tied up in a loose ponytail, eyes bright and blue and curious of everything. She actually could go to school, whereas unfortunately Jennifer couldn't; Jennifer had to be pulled out of school early so she could continue her treatments. Lizzie wasn't in pain or constantly in-and-out of hospital, and frankly, he was relieved this time to be assigned a child that was not terminally ill.

He didn't feel he could go through that experience again.

Lizzie, he discovered, was naturally very inquisitive and liked to ask a lot of questions. So far, they hadn't terrorized the neighborhood or done anything to her father's belongings.

But it was only just a matter of time.

His story of the girl, Jennifer, made her feel a bit ill herself. She felt a horrible feeling gnawing away in her stomach. She had been with her father a few times when he went to the hospital; She had sat in the room with him, pretending to play with the toys they had gotten out for her, while the doctor talked seriously to her father. Although she didn't understand what the adults were saying at the time, she had caught onto certain words. Like lungs and cancer. It suddenly made some sort of sense to her, along with Red's story. The doctor had flung around words like blood tests and cancer and lungs and all of this other stuff. Her father had cancer, that was why he was sick the way he was, and he was going to die. Cancer was bad. Very, very bad.

Liz wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin against them, hiding her face by letting the loose bits of her hair fall over it.

Red wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but when she started making some sniffing noises into her knees, it occurred to him. _Oh, great. _He had made her cry, and crying was not a part of his job description. Laughter and happiness, however...

"So that's why daddy's sick," he heard her whisper tonelessly.

"Hmm? What's that, Lizzie?"

He heard her inhale deeply, her small hands rubbed her eyes quickly, and then she sat up, finally bringing her head out from her knees and staring up at him desperately. Her nose was running and her eyes were red-rimmed. "Daddy's gonna die, like you said."

Red felt his heart twist, as a surge of panic spread through him. "What? No. Why?"

"At the hospital one time. Cancer and lungs."

_Ah._ It was no surprise to Red. During the night for the past week that he had been there, when Lizzie was fast asleep, he spied on Sam sometimes. In the dead of the night, Sam would sneak downstairs, stand outside the back door, and light a cigarette, constantly looking inside to make sure Lizzie wouldn't catch him out in the act. Then, he'd light another one, and another one, despite the horrendous coughing attacks he'd have during and after a cigarette. He was the biggest chain smoker Red ever saw. Not to mention all that blood; Holding a handkerchief over his mouth and coughing it up. The wheezing, the constant shortness of breath.

"Is he going to die?" Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

He couldn't see any point lying to her, despite all this. "Yes." When she started crying again quietly, he added consoling, "Like you are going to. And I; We all die, Lizzie. Some just do it faster and sooner than others. It's a natural part of life."

"But how can _you_ die? _You_ aren't real, are you? Not really."

"Don't worry. If anyone is doing some dying here, it'll be me, Lizzie. I'll die before either you or your father does, Lizzie." That, he was most certain of, more than anything. And he was not afraid of it.

He was calm and accepting about it, because it had happened when Jennifer died, too. She died, and then he died. It was bound to happen, but that was fine. So long as he made Lizzie laugh and smile as much as he possibly could, before the end came, because that was his job. It always happened; She wouldn't need him anymore, she'd get older and she'd learn how to take care of herself and manage her feelings of stress, anxiety, and sadness, and then he'd fade off and disappear and be assigned a new boy or girl to be friend's with.

He had only said that to her to make her feel better, somehow. He realized his error when she gave him a desperate look, with tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't want you to die, either."

"Well, I won't. As long as you keep wanting and needing me, I'm here for you, Lizzie. It's as I said; if you are angry, sad or stressed, or just in need, I am here for you. I'm here to be your friend, and to make you laugh and smile. _That's_ why I'm here, Lizzie." It made him feel miserably in return, seeing her so sad, so he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, up against his side. He felt her tense up and he heard her little gasping noise in shock as he hushed her gently and comforted her. "I'm here because _you_ need me, Lizzie."

Red had never touched her before. For some reason, Liz expected his hands to go straight through her like she imagined ghosts' hands would. When he held her close to his side and she rested her face in against the collar of the striped shirt he was wearing, she realized that wasn't how it was. He felt real to her, like a real man. When her nose touched the skin at the base of his neck, he felt warm and real, too. He _smelled_ real. So why could no one else see him but her?

She could feel him, feel his warmth and the smell of his skin. So how could he be imaginary or ghost-like?

Him holding her and saying to her that he would be there made her feel a lot better; Not just about all this talk of dying, but also the discovery of how serious her father's illness was. She realized her daddy hadn't held her or hugged her close like this in days, and she felt thankful now that someone was. What if she never wanted Red to go and leave her though? Not ever.

She reopened her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes and making everything blurry. Her arms were around his back, squeezing tightly. Her fingers clinging and gripping to the fabric of his shirt like a little monkey. "Forever?" She whispered, hearing him swallow loudly. "Even if I want you to stay forever?"

"For as long as you want me, yes, although something tells me you won't want me when you're older." It was thought of as a myth; No one had ever stuck around, even when their assigned child grew older. The oldest case they had heard of, was a child reaching twelve-years old, an autistic boy. His imaginary friend lasted longer than the usual life span expected of them. Imaginary friends usually didn't stay around after ten-years of age, and he was expecting it would be the same with her.

She unwrapped her arms from around him and sat up slowly, looking at him uncertainly. "Promise?" Her cheeks were still streaked and wet, but the tears had ceased.

He held up three fingers, saluting her. "Scout's honor, Lizzie," he promised fervently. He had a sudden idea come to him, a light bulb moment. "Now, do you know what I like to do when I'm feeling sad?"

"No." She eyed him eagerly. "What?"

"Do you like ice-cream?"

She squirmed and smiled at him. "That's silly! Of course, I do! Who doesn't love ice-cream?"

"Exactly!" Red got to his feet and helped her up carefully so she didn't trip over in the grass. Lizzie picked his hat up and waved it around, making all the grass she had put in it blow around in the breeze. "Let's go get some ice-cream, Lizzie. I am sure your father won't notice you're gone if we don't take too long." He held his arm out to her, but she was a bit too short to fully reach. "Shall we?" She stretched up on her tiptoes, sliding her hand in between his arm, and then off they went, striding through the tall grass in her yard towards the busy highway that was closed off by their fence.

Liz gulped when she heard the sound of cars rushing by quickly. Her father always warned her never to go towards or near the road without him, unless she wanted to get squashed by a car like the chicken that crossed the road at the wrong time. If Sam found out she'd walked near the busy road in order to find where some ice-cream was, he'd probably be very angry with her.

Red knew all about cars and how much of a danger they were to children and people in general, so he bent down to grab hold of her hand tightly, moving in front of her so that he was the one walking closest to the road and the cars, and not her. Cars kept going past from both directions and some driver's stared at them, particularly Lizzie, who was just a mere child of seven walking on a dangerous highway with- as far as they could tell- no adult with her. But she did have an adult accompanying her and she was in safe hands.

He was just invisible to everyone else but her, that's all.

"Where are we going?" Liz asked after a while of endless walking together. The sun was beginning to disappear through a set of clouds and she felt a bit scared being constantly near the road.

"To where an abundance of ice-cream awaits, Lizzie. I'm sure there isn't much more to walk now."

Red was growing quietly concerned himself. They had to have walked for a little over twenty minutes, and there was no ice-cream in sight. Worst of all, he could sense Lizzie's increasing sense of fear and worry at the idea of being lost or run over. He knew she was getting tired; She didn't walk as fast as he did, and her shoes were starting to drag against the pavement. _Why the hell was it so hard to find ice-cream nowadays?_

She tugged on his hand to get his attention. She was starting to pant and her eyes were droopy._ "_Red, what's the time?"

"That's a very good question, Lizzie." He let go of her hand for a second to pull his shirtsleeve back, checking the time on his gold Rolex wristwatch. Jennifer had never given him a watch, but much to his good luck and fortune, Lizzie had. He saw it was almost six o'clock in the evening and he grimaced to himself. Sam would be getting ready to call Lizzie in for dinner, and they were quite clearly lost. He would never tell Lizzie that, because he didn't want her to start panicking or crying, so instead he pretended everything was fine and that he knew what they were doing. "It's only just turned four o'clock, Lizzie," he lied, not at all feeling bad about it. "Uh-huh! Is that an ice-cream truck I hear in the distance?" Grabbing her hand tightly, he started steering the way again.

"I can't hear anything," Liz exclaimed to him, panting softly. She felt ready to get a piggyback ride from him, because her legs were starting to hurt and she found it hard to keep up with him. Feeling irritated and wanting to get his attention, she reached over and pulled roughly at his pant leg. Finally, he glanced down at her. "Red, I can't hear any ice-cream trucks? Why would you say that?"

"You can't hear that, Lizzie? It's an ice-cream truck."

"I can't hear _anything_, Red. You're a liar!"

"Am not!"

"Are too! We're lost and now daddy's gonna be angry with me for the rest of my life!"

They heard sirens then, but not of the ice-cream truck kind.

"See?" Red whispered to her smugly, kneeling down next to her. "I told you I heard sirens, Lizzie!"

"That isn't an ice-cream truck, it's the police!" Just then, a police car appeared, sirens blaring. They indicated over to the small strip of the walkway where Liz was standing and Red kneeling, and pulled over at a safe distance away from them. Liz was positive they were there for her. "Now we're gonna get arrested by the cops!"

"Oh, Christ, you're right, Lizzie." A male officer climbed out of the car and started approaching them. Red felt his heart fill up with dread. This was all his fault. Now what were they going to do with Lizzie? He looked at Liz from where she stood behind him, and she looked so fearful and as if she was going to cry. He bit the side of his lip, then made up in his mind what had to be done. "You stay right here, Lizzie," he told her sternly. "I'll take the fall, sweetheart. That way you can go back to your father and I'll just spend the night in prison. It'll be fine."

She did not react too good to that. She made a short squealing noise, "No, you can't! They'll take you away from me for good!"

"This is what friends do, Lizzie. Do you understand? They take the blame, and that is certainly what I'm going to do now." Making up his mind, he stood, ignoring her clinging to his leg desperately, and he brought his arms up, resting his hands on his head- the universal sign of surrender. "I'm sorry, Lizzie," he whispered down at her softly, remorsefully. Then he cleared his throat and started to address the cop calmly, who was just near reaching them. "Good evening. You caught me, congratulations. I'll go quietly, under one condition: And that is, that you don't hurt Lizzie and that you take her back home to her father. If you hurt her then make no mistake, I _will_ hurt you. Do we have a deal?"

Much to his annoyance, the officer didn't bother replying to him or no less paying any attention to him. The officer's eyes went straight to where Lizzie was standing, arms wrapped around Red's left leg.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is, to be walking out here with this hectic traffic going by, young lady?" The officer asked her. He didn't sound mad at her, just concerned for her safety. "Where are your parents? It isn't safe for you to be walking alone out here like this. My name is Officer Hernandez, and would it be all right if I-"

"She's with me," Red interrupted him angrily. Not that the officer heard.

"Your father called telling me you were missing, and he's very worried," Officer Hernandez went on gently. "I know your address, Elizabeth. Let's get you in the patrol car and I'll take you back home." He smiled at her kindly. "I bet your father would be relieved to see you make it back safely!"

He helped her into the backseat of the patrol car, got her all safely buckled up, and Liz peeked through the window to find Red standing there, still, as he was; Hands resting on top of his head, frowning remorsefully, eyebrows creased. The officer turned off the loud sirens as he pulled back out onto the highway, and as the car went slowly, getting further away and away from where Red stood, Liz saw him finally let his hands flop to his sides as he watched them go. She harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest. _Some friend Red was..._ He said he'd take the fall for her and, yet, what did he do? He chickened out and didn't bother getting in the car with her. _Liar._ He was a liar, liar, pants on fire. Chicken.

Once the car pulled up into her driveway, she saw her father standing outside, looking worried and teary-eyed. She was going to be in so much trouble, thanks to Red! She never should have agreed to go on the search for ice-cream with him. Her father Sam approached the window where she was sitting, and he opened the door, falling to his knees near her.

"Butterball, do you have any idea how worried I was?" He sounded on the verge of crying, and Liz didn't want him to do that. "What the hell were you thinking, going out of the yard like that? Didn't I tell you what could happen if you went out near the busy road?"

She hung her head, on the verge of crying herself. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Red and I just wanted to get some ice-cream."

"Red?" It was the first time she had ever mentioned her friend to her father, and she could tell he didn't believe her. "Lizzie, honey, this has to stop right now! Do you understand me? Don't you ever worry me like that again!" His face went red and she could tell he was very angry and upset with her. Despite that, when he helped unbuckle her seat, he couldn't resist hugging her and laughing in relief, when she flung herself into his arms, trembling. "Thank you so much for finding her, sir," her father said to the Officer. "I'd hate to know what could have happened to her."

"You're very welcome. I'm just relieved I found her in one piece. You won't be going off like that and scaring your father again, will you, Elizabeth?" Even the Officer's voice was stern and very serious.

"I won't, I promise."

"Good girl. You folks have a good night now."

"Thank you again, Officer," her father repeated, hugging her tightly.

As Liz put her arms around her daddy's neck, squeezing him tight, she caught a glimpse of Red standing in the yard, having returned from his disappearing trick. One hand was tucked deeply in his trouser pocket, while the other held his hat. He looked just as guilty as she felt, on the inside. Liz noticed he kept his distance from the patrol car, and it was only when the Officer reversed out of the car and had disappeared from the yard that he took a few paces closer to her and her father. He was such a chicken. Obviously he was fearful of the police.

Sam kissed her on her cheek and separated himself from her, his eyes searching her face with a look that told her he was going to be angry with her all night. "I am not very pleased with you, Butterball. You can't ever do that to me again. As for now, I want you inside the house. Dinner's ready. Afterwards, you'll go straight to your room. No playing in the yard tonight with this... _this Red person_, do you hear me?"

She nodded obediently, wiping her eyes on the back of her hands. It had been a long and scary day.

"Good girl," her father said, satisfied. "Now, inside. Go!"

She hurried inside, throwing one last glance at Red, who was standing there watching helplessly. "I'm _so_ sorry, Lizzie," he said guiltily when she passed him, and she poked her tongue out at him before heading inside quickly.

That was the first time Red had gotten Liz into trouble, and it was certainly not going to be the last.

_**Hope you enjoyed this chapter? Is it too crazy? Is everyone too out of character? I'm hoping not. Anyway, I'd love to know your thoughts, as always. They make my day!**_


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